


Y-Axis

by Whisper132



Series: The Parabola Continuum [8]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-25
Updated: 2009-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:45:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Osamu and Gin go through their first fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Y-Axis

Of all the social events he was required to go to, bonenkai was the best. Not only did he get to eat good food, but he got to drink until he puked, then drink more. Normally, at the average enkai, Osamu pulled back right before the puking out of respect for his coworkers. If the principal didn't puke, then you didn't puke. At bonenkai, the principal and staff didn't have to come back to school for a whole week, so they let loose. Last year, the principal and the vice principal got into a sake battle and, at the close of the evening, the principal was naked and crawling up a potted plant, pretending to be a mantis.

The year was coming to a close, and Osamu had been invited to Gin's house or the family party, during which Osamu wouldn’t be able to live it up for fear of letting something slip. Were he drunk and near Gin, bad things could happen. So, to compensate, he was going to get his money's worth at the school bonenkai.

It was supposed to be the best night of his life.

Everything hurt. His head hurt, his feet hurt – all of it just…hurt. Osamu couldn't recall ever having drunk as much as he did…if he really drunk all that he remembered drinking. Truthfully, he only remembered the evening up until Miyake-sensei began showing everyone his famous tap dance routine from when he was a Johnny's hopeful. If Osamu's memory was in any way correct, Miyake wasn't that bad, especially for a guy in his 50's.

"Watanabe-sensei, may I use your shower?" said a voice that didn't sound at all like Gin. For one, it was asking something Gin had stopped asking a year ago. Two, it belonged to a woman.

Wow. That was a change.

"Uh, sure. Towels are in the closet over there." He flailed his arm in the direction of the linens.

"Thank you."

Osamu heard his guest leave and enter the bath room, allowing him privacy to make sure he had pants on under his blankets.

"Oh good," he sighed, noting he was wearing the same pants he went out in the night before. And, even better, the pants appeared to be stain free. Going to work would suck if he'd done it with one of his coworkers; not only would he have to turn her down, he would have to figure out a lie as to why he was turning her down. Also, he would have to tell Gin. That wouldn't go over well. Now that Gin was a first year in high school, they were able to have slightly more freedom – Osamu allowed sitting close on the couch so long as Gin's arm remained on Osamu's shoulder and didn't wander – and Osamu didn't need Gin getting weird and possessive because he couldn't watch Osamu every day. Not that Gin would get possessive or anything, but it was a possibility. Also, Osamu caught Kin-chan sneaking off to text someone after practice every day. Osamu knew a lackey when he saw one.

Yawning, Osamu went to unlock the front door so Gin wouldn't have to bother with his key when he came. He was due in about an hour. As Osamu neared the door, something shiny caught his eye from inside the mail drop box on the door. He moved closer to inspect it.

"Shit." He looked from the mail box to the entryway. A pair of red pumps mocked him.

Gin still didn't have a bicycle, so he'd be walking. If Osamu hurried, he could catch him. Pocketing the key Gin left behind, Osamu slid on his shoes and took off, running.

  
*****

  
He should have listened instead of just punching him. The reaction was childish and undermined all of his efforts to convince Osamu that he was an adult worthy of trust and adult-type affections.

Still, it felt really good.

"Did he cheat?" Chitose asked, his mouth half full of hamburger. "Or was there a chick there for some other reason? You sure it was a chick and not some transvestite or something?"

"Cheating with a transvestite is still cheating. And she was using the shower." Gin could still recall the sound of Osamu's creaking pipes – they did that when the hot water ran.

"Doesn't mean he cheated," Chitose said. "Maybe he was just helping out a fellow deviant or something."

"It wasn't a transvestite. The shoes were too small. Can you be serious? I was serious when you had a problem with Tachibana."

"Sorry." Chitose shrugged off Gin's distress, probably why nobody really tried to have a down to earth conversation with him. Gin had been suffering with Chitose's new fascination with the Rocky Horror Picture Show for the last month. Every conversation was filled with transvestites, weird dances, and Chitose's off-key singing in what might have been English but Gin wasn't too sure.

"I should call him," Gin said, even though he didn't really feel like talking. He felt like finding whoever took advantage of Osamu's drunkenness. Osamu told Gin the bonenkai was last night and that he was not going to hold to his one beer a day promise due to social obligations, so Gin could surmise that the predicament wasn't all Osamu's fault. When sober, Osamu was too lazy to cheat. Drunk, though, Osamu would just go along with whatever anyone wanted. It was why Gin didn't like Osamu drinking outside the apartment, preferably when Gin was present, and preferably sharing some with Gin, who kind of enjoyed beer despite the fact that it tasted like bread dough dipped in lemons.

"I'm kinda relieved, you know." Chitose waved his second burger at Gin. "You guys haven't really had a fight. It was weird. Kippei and I fight all the time."

Gin wanted to say that Tachibana and Chitose fought because Tachibana was a freak, but Gin respected Chitose enough to keep that thought to himself. "I don't like fighting," Gin said.

"Feels shitty, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"Gonna call him?"

"When I get home. I don't want to talk to him while I'm in public."

Chitose shook his head. "Do it now, man, or you're gonna chicken out when you get home."

"I won't."

"Your parents are there. That's worse than the people at Happy Burger knowing." Chitose waved his burger around again. "Just call him. I'll be your wing man."

Gin wasn't even sure what a wing man was. Hopefully it was something like a frequent doubles partner with whom you had a platonic relationship. One of those would be good. Instead, Gin had to play doubles with –

Chitose flicked Gin's forehead. "You're spacing out and stalling for time. Call him."

Gin took out his phone. "Okay."

  
****

  
After running after Gin, Osamu felt even sicker than he had when he'd woken up. He limped home, put ice on his face, and collapsed on the couch. His guest was gone by the time he got back which was nice. Explaining why the left side of his face was turning purple wasn't something he wanted to do, especially to a coworker.

When his phone rang, he thought about ignoring it. It was either going to be Chitose, calling to see what he'd done to piss Gin off, or it was going to be Gin trying to work things out while simultaneously making Osamu feel exactly one centimeter tall because Gin's calm, reasoning voice always made Osamu think of fun things he and Gin could do with the telephone if he didn't fear the police hijacking his phone signal and hauling his ass to jail. Why did everything with Gin end in pain or prison? It wasn't fair.

Oh yeah, the phone. Maybe he should answer it.

"Yeah?"

"Osamu."

"Gin."

Gin sighed into the phone. "Osamu."

"Yeah?"

"Who was that woman?" There was a growl to Gin's voice that sent a small shiver down Osamu's spine.

"Shimoda-sensei brought me home, I guess. She crashed here because it was late and she lives with her parents. Guess she didn't want to wake them up." That was what she said, at least, and Osamu was inclined to believe her. She had a boyfriend so there was no way she would be interested in Osamu. Also, the women at work tended to think Osamu was the kind of guy their parents would hate. They weren't wrong, really. A lot of dads would hate a guy who was ready to crawl on the ground so a high school kid would come to his apartment and take the spare key back.

"How much did you drink?"

"Passed out. Don't remember."

There was that cute growl again. In another three years, Osamu was really going to love hearing that growl. If they lasted three years which, given their current predicament coupled with the number of drinking parties the school staff had, seemed unlikely.

"Why did you drink so much?" Behind Gin's voice, Osamu could hear Chitose's voice. Osamu knew it was Chitose because of the laugh at the end of the conversation. Chitose's laugh sounded like a hyena burping up soap bubbles.

"Uh, maybe you should come here and we'll talk," Osamu said. "You're on a different cell phone plan, so this is expensive, you know? Don't want to freak your parents out."

"Come get me."

Osamu shot up from his couch and the world swiveled. "Be right there."

  
******

  
Gin sat as far away from Osamu as the back seat of the taxi would allow.

"I drank a lot, so it's a taxi. Sorry." Osamu scratched at his hair which, Gin noted, was uncombed.

"You didn't get to shower this morning," Gin said, pleased. If Osamu hadn't showered, it meant that woman was in there alone.

Osamu closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window. "We gonna talk about this in the back of the taxi or you wanna wait until we get back to my place?"

"Now is fine." Gin's hands were in his lap to keep him from reaching out to fix Osamu's hair. The man hadn't even worn his hat. Gin was very, very pleased that Osamu rushed to meet him, but a little embarrassed to be riding in a taxi with someone who looked like a hobo.

"Nothing happened."

"Are you sure?" Gin's level of frustration was likely nothing compared to Osamu's. If Gin entertained certain unsavory thoughts on a daily basis (it was Chitose's fault for talking too much and suggesting too many weird things), then Osamu probably had them every hour, maybe ever five seconds. There were studies, so Koharu said.

Osamu removed his forehead from the window glass and turned bloodshot eyes to Gin. "If I'm gonna do something, it's not gonna be with someone like that, alright. It's gonna be with," Osamu looked to the taxi driver and cleared his throat before continuing, "it's gonna be with someone else."

"Right now?"

"No."

Gin made sure his hands were still in his lap, even though he really wanted to be touching Osamu right now, not for particularly perverted purposes, but just because the bruise on Osamu's face looked really painful and Osamu looked like he could use some fussing.

"Okay," Gin said. "Not now."

Osamu narrowed his eyes. "That was way too easy."

"You're injured." Gin gave in and touched Osamu's bruised face lightly. "Sorry."

The taxi pulled up to Osamu's apartment and they exited after Osamu paid. "I want something good for dinner," he told Gin. "Something with meat."

Gin followed Osamu up to his apartment. "Okay. I'll see what I can do."

As they entered, Osamu stopped by the shoe cabinet. "And don't forget this," he said, handing Gin the spare key. "I'm not running after you again."

"Don't drink that much again and you won't have to," Gin said.

"And old man's gotta have something to live for, kid."

Gin let it slide because he knew Osamu was just saying it to avoid another argument. He'd bring it up again later, when Osamu wasn't hung over and in pain. Right now he wanted to see if Osamu was still willing to have a cuddle on the couch while watching TV.

After he showered.


End file.
